


Never as tired as when I'm waking up

by pollitt



Category: Zombies Run!
Genre: Kink Meme, M/M, Making Out, Sleepy Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-29
Updated: 2012-09-29
Packaged: 2017-11-23 04:25:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/618048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pollitt/pseuds/pollitt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for Zombies, Run! Kink Meme prompt: So you know how after Jack's weird cheetah dream he and Eugene get the necessary equipment to start running robo broadcasts on the station, and then go off to sleep for what sounds like the first time in quite a while? I have always assumed there is super adorable sex during that break. Would also be happy with sleepy making out, sleepy snuggling, etc. Basically just adorable overtired radio boyfriends plx.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never as tired as when I'm waking up

**Author's Note:**

> Note: Spoilers for iOS update and sleepy Jack's mangling of words were intentional.

"You know, cheetahs played quite a role in Mayan mythology, maybe the it was trying to tell me something in my dream. A harbinbergerish twenty-twelve plus-a-few,” Jack says, flopping back onto the mattress. “ _Oh_  I didn’t realize this could feel so good.”  
  
“I always suspected you learned history through video games. I will never forgive  _Battle of the Gods_ for mixing up the big cats. Jaguars are Mayan. Cheetahs are African.” Eugene balances on one crutch and reaches down, pulling at Jack’s shoes, because they might be three grades past exhausted, and semi-stale food, discussion of head shots and decomposition might be part of their everyday life, but shoes on the bed is unacceptable.  
  
“You can never pass up a chance to be right, can you?” Jack sits up and pulls Eugene up onto the bed. Eugene’s crutches clatter to the floor and he manages to drop Jack’s shoe before tipping forward onto Jack--their breath knocked out of both their chests. As Eugene rolls onto his back, Jack follows, clumsily straddling Eugene’s waist and leaning down over him, his hands cupping Eugene’s face. “It’s both sexy and infuriating.”  
  
Eugene will never say it out loud, but he loves this side of Jack, who pushes and pulls and forgets to worry that Eugene is anything less than whole.   
  
“I’m sorry. I just... I can’t help it.” Eugene says, covering one of Jack’s hands and turning his face to kiss Jack’s palm.  
  
“You’re lucky that I love you.” Jack leans down and kisses Eugene before sliding back off the bed. He pulls at Eugene’s shoe and lets it fall to the floor.  
  
“I really am.” Eugene raises himself up onto his elbows, watching as Jack pulls off his shirt and jeans with a sleepy, soft smile on his face.   
  
Jack wants to bottle up these moments when they happen, when Eugene’s shields are almost completely down and he looks at Jack like he’s the world’s best prize. And so he offers a little hip shimmy in his boxers and rides the warm feeling when Eugene laughs and lets Jack pull at the leg of his pants until they’re off and they join the pile of clothes on the floor.   
  
“I am very lucky,” Eugene continues, his eyes never leaving Jack’s face as Jack crawls back onto the mattress. When Jack’s thigh slips between his, pressing up like the most wonderful friction, Eugene’s breath catches. “I, uh. Oh, I don’t think I’m going to be much use tonight, and I really, really want...”  
  
“I don’t think I could either,” Jack admits, trying and failing to hold back a yawn as settles down, half on Eugene, half on the bed. “But we can still --” He licks at Eugene’s mouth and is rewarded with a smile and a kiss and Eugene’s agreement that, “Oh, I am all about making out until we pass out.”  
  
And so they do.  
  


**1.5: Wake up**  
  
Jack wakes up to the feeling of slow, lazy, and just-almost-sharp-but-not-quite lines being traced over the stretch of skin between his shoulder blades and the prickle of two-day old stubble rubbing (against the grain) along his temple, and as he shifts into the opposite sensations his hips brushes against --   
  
 _Oh._  
  
“Good morning, Mr. --”  
  
“Don’t even.” Eugene’s hand tilts Jack’s chin upward and stops his words with a kiss that lays all of its cards on the table.   
  
He has no idea how long they’ve slept, nor can he be bothered to check if the sun’s even still rising and setting. Any traces of any thoughts relating to ‘tired’ are being chased away from Jack’s mind by other more... active... attentive... *interested* ideas.   
  
Beginning with...  
  
“Jack,” Eugene hisses, his voice breaking Jack’s name into two as Jack’s hand slides beneath his waistband and over hot, hard skin.


End file.
